


Lypophrenia

by KittyFartingBubbles



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Synesthesia, betweenyouandme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyFartingBubbles/pseuds/KittyFartingBubbles
Summary: Because Seungcheol is all greens and stuff, but sometimes there are soft browns too, and Jihoon really wants to taste it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for between you & me - the Jicheol fanfic festival  
> Prompt: Lypophrenia; a vague feeling of sorrow or sadness seemingly without any apparent cause or source
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it!

 

A man moves into the old apartment two doors up his, which in itself is curious because the shady and ratty apartment doesn't get many new neighbors, and especially not new neighbors who are as attractive as this one. Seungcheol is his name, and he is nice and fresh, like a few hours of beach in a hot scalding day, it takes time to get used to the temperature of the water, but in the end, you secretly loved every minute of it.

 

Jihoon's piano is turned to the useless window the apartment has that is facing the corridor, sometimes he just sits there watching people coming and going, like busy ants getting ready for a hard winter, other days he completely ignores the outside world and plays, until his fingers are sore, so much that he as to think of green to chase away the anxiety.

 

He should be working on his music, should be polishing the piano keys, answering his friend's calls and messages, but the other is distracting and disarming even from a distance. So Jihoon watches the young man, it starts out as something to pass the time, when he can't concentrate, but as the days and nights pass, Jihoon understands that it become much more than that. He questions himself when did it change, when did Seungcheol became green, Jihoon wonders when did he start to ask himself if Seungcheol hair is as soft as it looks, if his eyes are actually warm like hot chocolate, if his smile is always so carefree and open.

 

It seems that universe is in Jihoon's favor because he gets the opportunity of doing more than exchange pleasantries on the hallways, or a half-assed talk of Seungcheol asking to use his phone. Jihoon gets half a dozen letters that all have Choi Seungcheol, Apartment 8b, scribbled on it.

-

Seungcheol isn't sure about Jihoon right away. He saw the other a handful of times since he moved and the only interaction they shared were a few rushed words, simple good mornings and have a good day. The other seems to always be in his own world, engaged in whatever happens in that head of his. The first time they talked over more than a few minutes was when Seungcheol asked if he could use Jihoon's phone, he had no money left on his cell.

 

Jihoon said yes in a blink of an eye, and Seungcheol as a hard time imagining the things people say about their neighbor. It was a nice gesture, the world needed more of those. Seungcheol leaves his shoes near the door and takes a look around the apartment, papers were everywhere, but not one or two, no, dozens and dozens of papers and notebooks, scribbled in a tiny, messy handwriting.

 

"I'm a composer, so I write a lot." Jihoon offers when he sees him looking, Seungcheol reaches a hand to the cell, giving him a smile, receiving a nod in return.

 

"I can hear you play from my house, you're really good."

 

Jihoon nods again in recognition. After that Seungcheol makes a quick call and marches back home, the thoughts and opinions of everyone about how Jihoon is a cold, self-centered person, swimming in his head, not making sense at all. Jihoon was nice, he helped Seungcheol in time of need, he was sure about Jihoon now, that the other was someone worth getting to know.

-

Jihoon stares down at the floor of Seungcheol's apartment, it is quite interesting all the patterns he can find there to entertain himself, the floor is a washed up red, it tastes like strawberry, but those that are already too soft to eat, you touch it with a finger and they squash under the weight of such a simple touch . Seungcheol rubs the back of his neck, but he doesn't say anything, neither of them does for a long moment. Jihoon doesn't feel like he can leave, but he doesn't quite feel like he wants to either.

 

"You have your letters, Seungcheol, so I'm going now." He's already moving towards the door when the other opens his mouth.

 

"Stay," Seungcheol says simply, like an order.

 

"Sure, let's braid each other's hair and paint our fingernails?" His mouth runs faster than his brain and he can't stop the words rushing out.

 

"I was thinking of eating junk food and watch some rubbish TV, but if you want me to braid your hair, I can do that too." Seungcheol offers with a sheepish smile.

 

"I need a drink for this." Seungcheol pouts and Jihoon raises an eyebrow in a questioning manner. "God, it's like kicking a puppy," he says eventually.

 

Seungcheol guides him to the couch because Jihoon needed help to find the sofa, and he can't stop but to notice that Seungcheol as pretty hands, lean, breakable fingers, like small branches that need to be taken care of with worry or they, will fall apart. Soft and warm, though, and also safe. Seungcheol as amazing hands.

 

"Well?" Jihoon asks from the couch, looking at Seungcheol, who looks back right at him.

 

"What?"

 

"I was promised junk food and lame TV," he answers. Seungcheol and walks to the fridge and opens the freezer to see what's inside.

 

Two hours later, a twelve pack and some cold pizza, Jihoon is sitting on the floor, between Seungcheol's legs, Jihoon's back to Seungcheol's chest, while the other tries to braid his hair. They are a little tipsy, and Jihoon might even tried to see if Seungcheol's skin really tastes of walnuts, because Jihoon is sure that it does, because Seungcheol is all greens and stuff, but sometimes there are soft browns too, and Jihoon really wants to taste it.

 

"My hair is too short for you to braid." Seungcheol tugs at a strand and Jihoon headbutts him, or tries to, he only hits chin, though. "Ow."

 

"Sorry, continue talking, you have a nice voice."

 

"So do you, it's shooting and green, loud and sometimes obnoxious with some hints of brown." Jihoon is sure he is blushing already, but in his almost drunken state, he could care less. "I really like my job, I have great friends, my family is awesome, but there is something missing. For no reason at all, I often find myself lonely... Sad."

 

Seungcheol hums, hands moving gently through Jihoon's hair, still trying but failing to braid it. Their first encounter ends like that, but in the morning when Jihoon wakes up on the hard floor, strange enough he is warm and comfy, and he lies to himself saying it as nothing to do with Seungcheol's body close to his.

-

When Jihoon opened the door, Seungcheol was expecting everything, but not a sleepy Jihoon, with socks to his knees, a pair of battered white shorts, with a few blue stains on it and a pink sweatshirt. Seungcheol had to bit his lip to prevent the squeal that was coming out of his mouth.

 

"Wanted to see if you were still alive after last night, you left before I woke."

 

Jihoon eyes are half closed, and he is tilting to the side slowly, but he makes a follow me gesture, so Seungcheol closes the door behind him and promptly trips in a stack of papers in front of the door.

 

"Those are important, please do not ruin my job."

 

"Better move them somewhere else," Seungcheol mutters under his breath.

 

"Huh, what did you say?"

 

"Never mind." He seats in the couch, next to another mountain of papers.

 

"I want to know what you said." Jihoon presses a finger to a piano key once, twice, thrice. Seungcheol can't look away, there is something hypnotizing in such a simple movement.

 

"You've still got a braid on your hair." He deadpans, just to see the look on Jihoon's face.

 

The other does gives him a look, rolls his eyes, but still passes a hand through his hair to see if anything is there. "I do not, I brushed my hair earlier."

 

"Please, you haven't even washed your face, you got drool on your chin." Seungcheol continues the teasing.

 

"Shut up."

 

"Not until you admit that you haven't brushed your hair."

 

"Never," Jihoon snorts scribbling something on a piece of paper.

 

"Admit it."

 

"Not a chance, because I did brush my hair and also washed my face."

 

Seungcheol leaned over to poke Jihoon in the ribs smiling at. "I'm pretty sure you didn't."

 

"Get off me!" the younger man pushed him away. "Go away, I have a job to do and you're distracting."

 

Seungcheol pokes him one last time and leaves, but only after putting a quick peck on Jihoon's cheek.

-

It's wrong. Again. Jihoon lets his hands fall on the ivory keys of the piano, earning a weak, discorded chorus of notes from the instrument, one that reminds him of the wind, the slap of it against stone, cold and indifferent. He feels the pinprick of tears at the corner of his eyes, stinging like lemon drops on an open wound, hurting like the brightest orange when the sun rises for a new day or goes to sleep for another night.

 

He stands abruptly, knocking the stool down to the floor with a loud clatter, and half a minute later, Jihoon is at Seungcheol's door at three in the morning, debating whether to knock. In the end, he decides against it, instead, he slides against the door, thumping his head against it, papers he didn't see he was carrying, scattering through the floor. He makes no movement to catch them, he just brings his knees to his chest, hugging himself tighter and tighter with each passing second, hands trembling on his knees.

 

He closes his eyes hard and soft greens pass through his lashes, a mash of the same color, but different tones, green leafs, green flowers, green, green, green. It calms him down, green always does the trick. Seungcheol is green. Seungcheol is abrasive like dirt under your fingernails but soft and gentle like cotton candy melting on your tongue.

  
  
Part of him wishes for the other to open the door, the rest of him fights hard that thought. He catches the papers and goes home, trying to get some sleep imagining that Seungcheol is next to him on the bed, his voice ringing in his head like a symphony of violins and pianos, loud, but beautiful and soothing at the same time.

 

He is awakened at seven in the morning, with a cheerful text from Seungcheol, and just like that, he knows that his day is going to be great.

-

Seungcheol gives a snort, followed by a smile at Jihoon's struggle to open his apartment door. He doesn't offer any help, waiting to see how long Jihoon will try to jungle the bags full of groceries in his arms while trying to open the door without letting any of it fall to the ground.

 

It does not take long before Jihoon his turning his way, and points to the key that fell to the floor and demands; "open it."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Instead of laughing at my misery, open the damn door or I will kick you in the butt!"

 

"You got some anger issues you wanna work out?" Seungcheol murmurs as he bends to pick up the key.

 

"Can I work them out on your face?" Jihoon snaps back.

 

"That entirely depends on what you plan on doing to my face. There're so many ways to work out that frustration of yours." Seungcheol says, shoving the door open with too much force.

 

"Funny of how I can only think of one way, and it doesn't end up happily for you."

 

"Don't be like that, Jihoon." This time, Seungcheol shoves Jihoon onto the couch and throws him the TV remote. "Take a rest, I'm going to cook for you."

 

"Do you even know how to turn on the stove?"

 

Seungcheol mutters a soft asshole, accompanied by another smile, and turns his back to Jihoon, choosing a few vegetables to wash.

 

"Wait, did you just invite yourself in?" Jihoon yells from the couch and Seungcheol laughs with gusto. For a pretty smart guy, Jihoon can sometimes take one too many minutes to see what is right in front of his face.

 

"You seem like you needed a good home cooked meal." Seungcheol sits next to Jihoon, shoulder to shoulder, leaving the rice to cook and the vegetables already chopped and prepared for the next step.

 

Jihoon looks up at him with a shy, sincere smile, and in that moment Seungcheol understood that it only took a month to fall for Jihoon, a month of him moving to this place, of awkward greetings and half of dozen words. The thought came to his mind so easily, like one thinks about how sunny the day is, it was so natural that it left him without words for a few beats. It made him look at Jihoon, really look at him and seeing how lucky he is, to having the friendship of someone so beautiful on so many levels.

-

"You need to get out a little bit, Jihoon." Seungcheol all but demanded, with a frown. "You've been cupped inside the house for two days straight."

 

"I'm working, Seungcheol. I don't have time to go out." Jihoon tries to placate him with an action towards messy piano sheets sitting on the tiny coffee table.

 

If this was any other day Seungcheol would probably have him had his way, but Jihoon had been inside his house, working non-stop for forty-eight hours already, and Seungcheol believed that it cannot be healthy being inside for so long. That is why Seungcheol is ignoring his whining and is currently trying to push a hoodie through Jihoon's head, forcefully.

 

"Stop trying to fit my head through the arm hole you asshole. I can do it myself, you know."

 

Seungcheol lets him go, but stays unnervingly close to him, a look of concern on his face. Grey storms and howling dark blue wind, beautiful, but scary at the same time, impossible to know what is going to happen next. Will the storm ebb away or will it cause more destruction? Sometimes Jihoon has difficulty reading Seungcheol, he is full of surprises, believes that making the best one day of time is the right way. Enjoy your fullest today, do the same tomorrow.

 

"There's too much pressure on people these days," Seungcheol says with care, low and soft. "People feel like they have to achieve amazing things, I don't want you to be miserable again, Jihoon. I do not want you to feel like that again, I want you to be happy because you have every right to be. So, please, let's go out and have some ice cream?"

 

The pleading was done with such caring that Jihoon lost all his fight. He let his arms fall and put a forced smile on his face. If Seungcheol wanted to go out and get some ice cream, they would, no matter that it's too cold for ice cream, because Jihoon did not want to hurt someone who he was starting to depend so much on. Someone that maybe could be so much more than a friend. If only he wasn't so afraid, that is. Seungcheol laughs at Jihoon when he grabs the other hand and pushes them out of the door, eyes full of adoration.

 

"That's my favorite thing about you," Jihoon mumbles before he can stop himself.

 

"What?" Seungcheol inquires shyly.

 

"Your smile, your laugh." He lets go of Seungcheol hand and runs away towards the ice cream place, hands trembling with anxiety, but heart light in his chest. It's true what people say about butterflies, they do dance around on your stomach, but it's also one of the best feelings in the world, even better than green.

-

"Hobbies? Something that you just forget yourself in?" Jihoon questions, passing a mug of tea to other.

 

Seungcheol's sighs, resting his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes, thinking. Jihoon wants to reach a finger and trace the crinkles on his eyes, to be able to touch the green with the pad of his fingers, let them dance around the skin and taste the beautiful colors.

 

"I like to read, love to listen to music, especially if it's you that is playing. You always manage to make me travel."

 

Jihoon crosses his legs on the couch, back against the pillow. "Have you ever gotten so absorbed in something you lose track of time? During that time, nothing else matters because what you're working on as to be perfect, you can't stop until it's done? Not because you have to, not because of some deadline, but because it's what you love?"

 

Seungcheol smiles at him, fingers still wrapped around the hot cup. Jihoon takes a small deep breath and looks him in they eye. "Lately, whenever I try to lose myself in my music, all I end up writing is how happy I have been lately." Jihoon turns his gaze to his knees, not able to look Seungcheol due to the thing he is confessing. "I think you are the cause of it."

 

Jihoon bumps his knee up and down, he is ready to flee, to get up and fly away. He clenches his hand and tries his best to calm his rushing breathing. Seungcheol's hand settles on his knee, such a comforting gesture, full of warmth and emotion. "Jihoon, calm down," he says, and Jihoon glances over to see a gentle look in his eyes. Seungcheol's thumb swept back and forth on Jihoon's knee. "I think I may feel the same."

 

Jihoon looked away, blushing. "Okay."

 

"Okay," Seungcheol hummed with a bright smile, full of promises and laughs, Jihoon cannot wait to see where that smile will take him, but he knows with every fiber of his being, that will be someplace where sadness was long gone, buried and forgotten.

-

"I can't believe you didn't cry when Leslie died!' Seungcheol's indignant voice echoes around the living room.

 

Jihoon just shrugs nonchalantly, far more interested in Bridge to Terabithia than he is in Seungcheol indignation.

 

"What they had was true friendship, that was love, man. How can you be like that?" Seungcheol sniffs, blowing his nose one the paper tissue right after. "Heartless, you are!"

 

"You cry enough for the both of us, especially when Dobby died. We had to pause the movie and have a break because you couldn't stop crying."

 

"It was Dobby, Jihoon. What is wrong with you?" Seungcheol points a finger at him, and Jihoon shrugs again, burying himself in the pillows and blankets on top of them. Seungcheol tucks himself closer, taking advantage of the warmth coming from Jihoon.

 

"To be honest, before I met you, it had been a long time that I cared about anyone, most of the time I don't even know how to care for myself. I'm not a very nice guy, there are days that I'm impossible to deal with..." A wave of sickening washed yellow, the color of vomit, travels through him. Such a disgusting color, one he'd never felt or deal with before, it was almost too much to handle.

 

Seungcheol seemed to sense his discomfort, he scooted closer and pushed Jihoon's head onto his shoulder, strong arms embraced him in a cocoon of safety. "Jihoon, you always manage to amaze me, I mean, I love your bad mood, your sarcastic ass makes me laugh every time, the way you wrinkle your nose when you try to concentrate on your composing is the cutest thing ever, you put everyone in front of you, but you still think of yourself as a selfish human being."

 

Jihoon whispers strongly, "Seungcheol."

 

And Seungcheol puts his hands around Jihoon's face, cupping his cheeks, and lays a soft kiss onto his forehead, running his lips softly all the way down his nose but doesn't go for the mouth. He waits and then when Jihoon opens his eyes, Seungcheol is gazing at him.

 

"I'm gonna kiss you now," Seungcheol says, already leaning in.

 

"Yes," Jihoon whispers again, this time in a soft tone.

 

And, finally, their lips meet, tenderly. Jihoon melts, he feels the heat from the tip of his hair to the end of his toes, hot like a warm shower on a snow day, making him relax, forget every single thought that was running in his head. He doesn't move, though. He's too scared it's not real. That he'll wake up and find himself alone. That maybe all of this was a simple dream and it never happened.

 

Seungcheol's lips are smooth against his, it is a sweet kiss, slow and soft, and Seungcheol breaks away only to trail his lips along Jihoon's jaw, dragging them lightly on his skin, fingers carding through his hair, putting a final kiss on his cheek. This time, Jihoon is the one wrapping his arms around Seungcheol, pulling him in again as the other peppers kisses all over his face and Jihoon just let him.

 

"I've waited so long for this." There's so much love, promise, and passion in Seungcheol's eyes that Jihoon can't believe it's directed at him, his voice washes over Jihoon like a mesh of colors that sends a warm flush down his spine, Jihoon can almost taste the smell of cut grass in the air, the green so intense and mesmerizing that he never wants to forget. "Jesus Christ you're beautiful." Seungcheol breaths in and Jihoon lets himself fall.

 

Jihoon lets himself fall in the promise of a better life, a place that where he will be happy, of where those he loves will be there for him and Seungcheol. A home full of laugh, and filled to the brim with love, neon greens, and soft browns, warm days and butterflies swirling around.

 

"Me too," he mumbles softly, against Seungcheol lips, Jihoon is sure he found the one, and that their relationship is going to be full of surprises.

 

The end

 


End file.
